E 




1 1 n 



OHITTARY ADI>RKS8. 



MN TIIK «M ( A-lMN in I IIK 



KK-IMKR>IK\r OK PHK REM\I\S 



JAMKS PI:PPER PR ATT. 



l^ I I \ ^ r I 1 1 v r 



I.O<iANSl^< >in\ INI)., N«)V. l>th IHcr,. 



i«> wi:\. >i. M. i><>!^'i\ 



Published by Request of the Officers of the Reg't. 



LOCiANsPOlM'. 

KIMNJ.mif-'T A l)A(;UK. I'lMNTKi:^. 

1 MM»;. 



OBITUARY ABDRESSi^ 

ON THK <K ( ASION OF THE 

RE-I\TEUME\T OF THE RE:>IALNS 

OF 

JAMES PEPPER PRATT. 

First LiVut. and Adjutant M Bat , lllli Ke^'t l'. S. Intantrv. 

DKLIVEKED AT 

1.0(>ANSJ^( )jrr, INl)., N< >\ . I'-itli l^r,:>. 






Published by Request of the Officers of the Reg't. 



LOGAXSPOKT. 

lUaNUlUlIST & DAGUK, l'KINTKI{^. 

1866. 



OBITrAKV ADDRESS. 



Justice an«l judginent are the lialuiaiiuu of th\ ihn»nc: lueivy ami iruth >\n\\\ 
go before thy far*-,— Psalm 80. 14. 

This ••\pressr< coiirMlfiUT aii<l prai.-r in jcpinl to (iol^^ ^ov- 
eniincnt over tlic world. When, in the dim, short-sighted penep- 
tion8 of men, (Jodhad forsaken the eartli and its atfair> wore misru- 
led, tliis cheerful trust in Him was siinj^ : "Th> throne dwells in jus- 
tice fitly manifested injudicial works; th> merciful faithfulness shall 
strikingly ai)i)»ar." Love. just, allwise and almi;_'hty, ever <are- 
for it> otV-priii;: and determinrs tlieir events. The love forbears 
and lie inttrt't Tt-.. IK- jrives and He takes away alike in ^''Oodness. 
th<)U«rh, ill thf tuiiiiill of the pervrrse forces and tlie awful tread of 
Providriicc, ruling: and over-rulinj^. His wisdom he not always to 
UH visihlr. *'ha\»' lailh in (Jod." Tlie sorrowful sovvin^Miiid the joy- 
ous rcapinj^ are hoth in hi-' haiul, and in dur lime and ways "the 
end of tlie Lord" shall \h- h-n raled. This is the consolation to 
mourners: this, (hr c<»iifi(hnrr of happy issues, in the labors and 
sacriticrs insri>aial>lr from all ;:t.od success, all trm- pr<»;i-res«. of 
mankind. 

It i> M(n\ the iiiouth'. oNcr «»ne \ rar siiitr thr battle of Ilaiio- 
vertowii, \'a. Tlu-rc fell Adjutant Pnitt "after a day in which he 
had borne himself with sij^nal jrallaiitry.** lieneath the boujrh of a 
monumental locust tree, "in a rude «i-rave ma<le by faithful conr 
ra<lt's," safely have his rt-mains reposed. Xaturall\ In- had <lesired, 
if h.' should fall, to be biirird anionjr hi- kindred, and near the 
home which nurtiin-d him when a boy. Xaturally, also, the lov- 
iuiT heart, bcreavi-d. rli(»(»(.> tl,r restin«r place of its cherished dead 
where often the eyi' may linj,'er and weei». and the treasured relics 
seem still closely to connect the living and the dead. At length, the 
rig()rsofwar and the sanitar\ laws of Providence no longer for- 
bidding, the sad, grateful transfer and re-union have been made.— 
The duty awaits us, fittingly to lay to sleep by the side of the be- 
loved mother's du-t. thr du-t of her noble son. 



With advantage to-day we pay these funeral rites. The hipse 
of time has brought the auspices of a glorious peace. We see now 
clearly that not in vain was poured out this young life, that the he- 
roic blood, thus freely shed, not only has illustrated the strength 
and the beauty of patriotism and left an attractive example of duty, 
but has been the necessary price of the country's present integrity 
and deliverance, and the precious, availing sacrithse to inaugurate 
for this and future time, for our own and other lands, a better, a 
prosperous and happy era. We can now begin to estimate tl^e sub- 
lime importance of that patriotic self-devotion which later posterity 
will more worthily estimate. 

It is but a brief record; a budding life, we here note and com- 
memorate. 

James Pepper Pratt, the eldest son of Hon. D. D. Pratt, was 
born in Logansport, Indiana, October 9th, 1841. He takes rank 
with others— not a small number— who, in various departments of 
public service, have honored this community, in which they were 
born and bred. His natal city accepts him among her jewels. He 
impressed observers of his early youth as modest, affectionate, du- 
tiful, with a genial humor, a keen sense of the ludicrous, the sham 
and the unkind, and ready, generous sympathy for the suffering and 
the wronged. He was fond of books and retirement, yet not unso- 
ciable, and with true companions frank and communicative. He 
had a subtle fancy, a flowing pen, and a growing taste for literature, 
especially the speculative and political, and in literary composition 
was excelling. His promise was of a life in quiet studies, or in 
professional and civil affairs, of capabilities suited to mental 
achievements, rather than of the duties which belong to the camp, 
the march and the battle ; yet he had an intelligent sense of public 
interests and a filial sympathy with the great heart of the nation. — 
Passing fi-om our city schools in 1858 to Wabash College, and 
nearly two years later becoming a member of Yale, where he grad- 
uated in 1861, conciliating in all the warm esteem of teachers and 
schoolmates — he entered the law office of his father, with nothing 
more foreign to his desires than the profession of arms, nothing 
less anticipated than the career of a soldier. But when the terrible 
war pressed on the country, and her appeal was ringing through 
the land, for the service and self-sacriffice of her sons, when honor 
and gratitude, interest and right, justice and humanity, wise patri- 
otism and the broadest philanthrophy were combined to incite him 
to put off the garb of a citizen and put on the harness of the war- 
rior, our young townsman appreciated the call, the grandeur of the 
struggle and the magnitude of its issues. In October, 1861, he 



wi-nt to Indianapoli-. and fiilistod as a private for tliree years in 
the 19tli retrimont of the United States Kegnlars. Four iiiontl)s lie 
cheei-fnlly served in the ranks, meetinfr the sliarp oonti-ast to his 
former litemry ease and affluent domestic eomforts witli a liappy 
disposition, wlneli was continually turninir into mirth what others 
only felt as hardships nn<l privations. In Fehruary. 1H02, upon his 
nomination hy President Lincoln, he was continned hy the Senate 
a Second IJiMitenant in the eleventh rejrinient of United States In- 
fantry, and on the second of July followintr he received his com- 
inis.-'ion as a First Tjeutenant in the same reffinient — to rank in 
this ofTice from the l.jth day «)f May. 18G2. The Sprin«r. Summer 
ind autumn of that year were employed on rei'-iiitini:- ser\ ire in 
the States of New York and Massachusetts. Ihit early in the 
Spring of 1J^63 he hailed with ])leasun' the vutnmon- which allowed 
him to join his re^riment in the field. Thenceforward he shared 
the various fortune-, of the Arm\ (»f the Fotomac. tlie partial disas- 
lers, the hurried an^l \vearis(nue nnirches. the dis<omfor(s and irk- 
-oment'ss of the camp, the pt-rils of the tierce encounter, the juhi- 
lant victor) . At ( 'hancellor-ville was his first hattle, at (Jettyshur*^ 
he wa- tui<e -truck; he also part ici]»Mtcd in the en^'-a^MMuents at 
l!i i-tor and Ftappahannock Stations. 0^ 

For the fir-t titne >ince he had hc-n connected with the army 
lie \ isifcd home on a -horf leave of ahsence, in l)e«-emher, 1HG3. — 
The next winter hi- rej.'-iment was emj>loye<l in the responsihle ser- 
vice of ;ruanlin;r the ()ran<re and .Mexandria Kiiil Hoad. the line 
-onnecfin;: the army u ith if» hase of supplies, and such was the 
reputation of the rc^fjment that it was not allowed to he relieved 
till the la-t moment hefore (inuit he^^iii his advance upon Kicli- 
mond. On the first <lay of .lainniry, 18C4, Lieutemmt Fratt had 
ajrain heen promoted, and hecanu' Adjutant of the 1st Tiattalion of 
his rcofiineut. He went thron^rh those dark, territflc (^-ij^hf days of 
Itaffle in the Wilderness, the acfi(Mi at Spoft syhania Court Ilotise. 
the -harp contest at tlje crossing' of the North Anna, and with the 
army had <'ros^ed the Paniunkey, in all the «rreat exposure and fa- 
ti<rue. nidiaiined and improvj'd in health. si«rnali/infr him self and 
more and mon* winninjr adminttion and credit for his jrallant 
conduct. When, near Ilauoverfown. on the '20th of May, 1H64, 
Sunday afternoon, at five o'clock, in fidl life and spirits, he fell, 
shot hy a hullet throu«,di the heart. His hody was home four miles 
hack to the field hospital, with a view of embftlminfr it, hut this 
provin«r impmctica))le he had a soldier's burial. wrapi»ed in his 
hlankef. with a rmle headboard to tell where he lav. 



6 

His death, though instantaneous, seems not to have been entireix 
without premonition. During those somber and severely contested 
days at an early period of the advance on Richmond, his letters, 
hurriedly written, show that he was aware of the strong uncertain- 
ties of the issues to him. Under this consciousness, pressing some- 
times like a shadow of tiie coming end, his energy and valor were 
most distinguished. This is gathered from nothing which fell from 
his lips or pen. In his communications there was no vain glory to 
detract from our respect for his ability and prowess. That he was 
active and skillful, sagacious and trusty, an officer of much prom- 
ise, very clearly appears from other sources. The modesty that 
was characteristic is happily noticed in the various sketches which 
have been given of his life. In a genial and discriminating view of 
him which, soon after his death, was furnished for the press in his 
native town, the statement occurs : '*Our readers will readily recall 
many of his graphic descriptions of battles and campaign life which 
found their way into the papers of this city. Of his own share in 
these various engagaments but little is knowii from his letters and 
conversations, for he rarely spoke ofjhimself. They who were with 
him, however, offer one testimony to his coolness and unflincliing 
courage,^md that he was never so thoroughly at himself as when 
under fire; or in danger." His character rises in dignity and in 
claims to esteem and honor in proportion to the care with which it 
is examined, and as the fiicts which reveal it are known. Of his 
true heroism and other excellent qualities, we accept the testimony 
offered by some of his brother oflSLcers. They speak with a tender 
memory of him as a comrade, always kind, manly and courteous. 
All affirm that in the hour of battle none did a soldier's duty more 
fearlessly and valiantly. His early friends are not surprised to 
hear of his considerate and generous bearing toward the men in the 
ranks, and of the love reciprocated by those under his command. — 
He had a very quick sympathy for the suffering, and a very open hand 
for their relief. His personal habits were not prodigal, his means 
were not wasted in vices, yet what he drew from the Government 
barely sufficed for the frugal manner of his life and the liberal 
manner of his charity. We who saw him in opening youth are 
prepared also for that developed manhood which drew from a col- 
legemate at Yale, in a memorial address before a meeting of their 
class, these eulogistic words : "Those of us who knew him most 
intimately, bear uniform testimony not only that he was a man of 
much more than ordinary ability, for he was a good talker and a 
graceful yet earnest writer, but also that he was a frank, genial, 
manly companion. We remember, as if it were yesterday, his 



ringing. iH-arty langli. and tlie quick, ready humor, that Avas never 
at fault for a repartee." It is in place here to state that, while at 
college, 8evenil productions from his pen attracted favorable re- 
gard. Of his lighter effusions was the song, written for Presenta- 
tion Dav, and after his death, solemnly sung at the Triennial meet- 
ing of his class : apj.roaching the sad, speedy close— ''we see him." 
continues thi- appreciative classmate, "on the afternoon of that fate- 
ful 29th of May, for one supreme, shining moment, a gallant tigure, 
full of the calm valor of a conscious heroism : his eyes flashing: his 
face insi)ired with a fierce glory caught from the storm of hattle— 
and the next— he has fallen dead : hut triumphant. A noble young 
heart had. in an instant, ceased beating forever— but how full of the 
grandest significance had l>een this brief litV-. He had lifted him- 
self into the sublime greatness of one sclfsa«riticed for his country. 
And we seem to see, out of the storm and tread of the carnage, be- 
yond the smoke and conftision of battle, a glorious vision of na- 
tionality and manhood. It is struggling up : it is unfolding itself; 
it is coming forth in imperial beauty out of the tire of the conflict, 
and all the future Is giving it joyful salutation. It is the Temple of 
Liberty redeemed out of dishonor: it is man lifted from the thrall- 
dom of his old despotism-— freed tVom the badges of an hi-toric 
shame." 

F'roMi the cji.ri-hed gniv*- of our youthful townsman, which 
henceforth we keej*. a U-skom of devotion t<» <ountry and to human- 
ity shall l(»ng be gniteftilly leanuMl. Not we oidy. but those who 
<ome after us. will rep<:it the brief story of his life and selfsacrifice, 
and feel a fresh and lnsi»iring sense of the beauty, and grandetir 
and true worth of a human career given to great principles of right 
an<l well-lM'ing: for he has not been consumed by the rust of idle- 
ness aiul the canker of luxurious indulgencr. He has n<it been 
killed by vices; he has not died in a cotirse of political self-seeking, 
amid plots and counter plots, and partisan blindness to truth and 
righteousness. lie has not gone from the meanness and guilt of 
hoarding up and gloating over wealth, which, as to personal or 
social uses, or any valuable ends, was scarcely less one's own after 
death than before. From no ignoble pursuits of selfish ])assion or 
selfish coldness, contricted sympathies, and (b'uial of the relations 
of a patriot and ofaman, has he passed away. Not for him is there 
«»eed (tf falsehoo<l to cover worthlessiu'ss, or a cautious silence not 
to waken the memory of selfishness and crimes. No blush of 
sliame will be kindled when his name shall be spoken, or the tablet 
of his grave arrest the eye ; but there shall arise the noble image of 
a young man of the character, sclf-cnlture. tastes and mean> which 



promised enjoyment and success in an honorable profession or 
in some attractive walks of peace, who, under true and generous 
impulses from an intelligent sense of the interests to which lie was 
related, of the worth of his country, its institutions of freedom, it.^ 
Civilization, its union, and of its just and humane cause in the mor- 
tal strife against its assailants, accepted his personal responsibility 
and with a nianly heart obeyed the voice of duty, tearing himself 
from the quiet delights of his home, and from congenial associates, 
freely to peril and yield his life. As we look upon his suggestive 
marble, the oflering which he has made to patriotism and human- 
ity shall shine forth in imperishable beauty, a bright illugtration 
commending lofty, beneficent principles of action. 

Thus we interpret ''the waste" of this precious life poured out. 
Not ingloi-iously, not in vain has it been ! Oh no ! His days were 
indeed few, and his end in the wild, dark turmoil of bloody strife ; 
but we may not fear to pronounce his a truly illustrious life. He 
fell like a star just risen, but it was a star. For worthy tempOTal 
ends, both personal and social, he has done more that entitles him 
to be remembered with gratitude and honor, than do the majority 
of those who live their three-score years and ten. We grieve that 
we shall see his face no more. Alas, for the hearts of frienctship. 
fraternal and sisterly affection and parental hopes, pierced with the 
bullet which pierced the bosom of the friend, the brother, the son. 
But he is gone— let us thank God— for so exalted a cause. 

The memory of patriot heroes is a treasure for their kindred 
and all who knew them, a treasure for the nation and for the world. 
It can do what gold is impotent to procure, and physical force can- 
not compel. It can elevate tlie man ; it can form brave and true 
hearts ; it can supply the willing service of active minds and hands, 
and stalwart limbs and ample stores, in every social and national 
emergency. It can throw a cheering light and give strength wherc- 
ever men struggle for the right. Far down in the ages of the fu- 
ture the remembrance of those who have not counted their lives 
dear for liberty, and country, and mankind, shall be as ointment 
poured forth ; it shall be a perpetual blessing like the memory of 
those who bled at Marathon and Thermopylae, at Lexington and 
Bunker Hill, presenting an example evermore which shall nourish a 
heroic race, prepared to furnish the champions and martyrs requi- 
red, till despotism and wrong shall be finally overthrown. Free- 
dom, loyalty, all the principles of human brotherhood and christian 
civilization, shall be the more precious, the more secure from as- 
sault and confii-med in their sway, from the costly sacrifices, which, 
under God, have made them triumphant. 



We will loncUy tre:»>ure the dii.-t ol" llit- iiiarivr patriot.-, talkii 
on the high placeK of the field, for us and for coming generations.— 
We will heed tlie lesson;- of their memorial tombs. Shall we not 
become, by such communion, less selfish, less in bondage to things 
material aiid gross, less fearful liberally to do and to sutfor for a 
worthy cause ? Shall not our life-aims be lujbler, and a trail of true 
irlorv, that only of those whose purpose has been lofty, and expan- 
ded usefulness, linger over our departure ? Still regretful tear> 
must flow while we escort the dear remain- to th.-ir place of rest. 
A short while ago we saw him, a sprighly bo> , gentle and winning 
in his demeanor, his face aglow with good nature and childish glee : 
a little later a blameless and vers estimable pupil, enlivening the 
Seminary on comi»osition day> with his earnest tlumghts and sal- 
lies of wit ; afterwards, only by transient glinip>e>. when, from 
College, and once from the lamp, he visited his honn- ; then, a feu re- 
ports come how well he acquitted himself as a soldier of his (oun- 
try. and — alas, how r»oon — the chilling ti<!ings of his death. So. 
our work will soon 1m' dune, our character be wrought into it- in- 
delible impre^•.ion. llo\N shallow y our liven ln're ! IIo\\ do all 
things earthly vani-h into tliin air! Ft i- trm- "vvhatsoev er i- noi 
et«*rnal is nothing." 

The greatest conflict if, still pemlin»i. the -trujiglc for eteniii\ . 
There is an army of Christ, a place under him. (or ea«h one of us to 
serve, and a summons, louder than just now called lorlh a millii>n 
of UMMi to the fh-ld. bidding us -put «>n the whole armor of (,od." 
The toil, the Imttle is brief; a little farther on garland- of gjor\ 
• wait for the soldier of the cro— . 

The Author of this nildress cannot forbear to append a few let- 
ters of A<ijutant Pnjtt to hiH honored Father. Thes are the la^t 
he wrote, and \\ ill be r.ad with a melanchol> interest, and a fresh 
respect for ^lie mem()r> of the writ4'r. It has Iwen litly -aid of 
them, "Some of his lett«'rs, written in pencil, on acmps of pa pet soil- 
ed irith the dust find smoke of hattle. f\rv niodeU of mi-tiidied and 
uncon.-cious pathos and beauty." 

Sid)joined, also, is an extract fro:n a kind letter written l>s Ma- 
jor Gordon of the same reginu'iit, and as an officer, aii intidligeni 
gentlennm and a tiiir frieinl. held in high esteem by Adjnlarif 
I*nitt. 



10 

Head-Quarters 1st Battalion, 11th Infantry^ 
Alexandria, Va., Marcli 31st, 1864.( 

Ml Dear Father :— I received to-day your letter written from 
Wabash. Yon are over worked and out of spirits. Now can't you 
single out a couple of weeks and with Juil, come and see me.— 
Here are hotels or tents as you choose, hills, sights, and pleasant 
weather ; you can get an insight into army life that will be inter- 
esting. I can take you to the hundred forts and works around 
Washington. We can visit the army front together, for a day or 
two. You can see an old classmate, who certainly is to be believed 
when he says he would be delighed to have the opportunity of dis- 
cussing bygone times with you. In fact, "to sum up," it would be 
a. capital idea. 

Now take it up without long rumination. Pack a valise in the 
evening and take the morning train, for if the thing is delayed a 
day it will be forgotten, or I shall be ordered away. Juil would 
certainly enjoy a visit, for horses are plenty, sights abundant, and, 
once in Mrs. Underwood's circle, there are acquaintances of supe- 
rior attractions. I have abundance of time to make her stay agree- 
able. Washington, with all its wonders, is only half an hour dis- 
tant ; the regiment is well stocked with chivalrous Lieutenants, and 
T am confident she would enjoy herself hugely. Now do come 
and bring her with you, and don't delay the matter an hour, for we 
may reasonably expect orders to join the main army very soon. 

Some five or six thousand troops around us have been ordered 
to the front within the past week. Grant is dragging every uni- 
form to where it should be. Those beef-eating thousands who for 
three years have been squatting in Washington defences, perched 
in their snug nests, and looking with dove-like interest at their 
stronger brethren doing desperate battling all around, whose only 
tales of service are their startled interest when the tide of battle 
swept almost within sound ; this legion of gloved heroes have been 
taken where sterner service will be seen. Hampered commanders 
with their battalions have, time and again, when in sore need, 
prayed for them, but hitherto they have been jealously guarded 
from any exposure. 

We are so essential in our particular service that our time here 
will be lengthened considerably, I think. 

The Quartermaster and myself are going to Baltimore on Sat- 
urday to spend a day with my old Captain, now Col. Thomas, in 
command of some three thousand colored troops near there. He 
has been sending us urgent invitations for a month to come and see 
him. T trust to see you in the course often days here. 

Your affectionate son JAMES. 



11 



I1kai> QiAKTtKf* 1st Baitalion Hth Infantrv.^ 
iJ.-uletoii. Vjv.. Ai.ril :^Utli, ISM.s 

My DkAK FAiiiku :— \V«' Itfi Ah'xaiKliia ye6terda\ :il U and 
w ent in caiiii) hero last eveuiiig-. We expect to iiuiirh to-inurrow 
for the front. Tlie tirst conseqiienceEJ of a relurii to life in tlie lieki 
were a eliill and a burninj; fever all niifht. I"ll soon get aecus- 
tomed a«:ain tliouj<h to exposure. A battlr i> expeeled very soon. 
Write to itw n< soon a> you can. Good-b>«', lovi- in all. 

Your afleetionate son .lAMLS. 



P.nt)i A( NfcvK Mink Hi n. \ \.,f 
Kv«'nin^^ Ma> 4tli. ls(v4.\ 

Mv 1)K.K 1 vTIl^;l:: — We left camp near ('uli>cpj)er la-t niiilii 
it 12 o'clo<k ami niarclicd swiftly mthI steadily alonu until *J ojclotk 
this afternoon ; 14 hours of hanl inanhin«r. We were >oexhausted 
that wc all went to -leep at the halt, an«l I ha\e just woke up to 
find nothin^'^ hut a dull iflow in the We-t. in phue i»f a ht»t «un : the 
valley full of while njj-t. and the plainii\ e e\ enin<; inu-i<- ola iieiLih- 
'•oriufx niar-h. a t'ull ehorus. 1 ha\e just -ient around <ien. Meade'- 
battle a<ldre>^ to hi> troops ; a -pleinlid comjin-it inn. W < exiMci 
ever\ Ixiur to j^o ini«) action. It will be de«.j»tiaie. (md <jiant it 
nia\ be ^ucee^sful. 

Ma\ loth— If look^ dark. We hav«' been Jijrlitin^i -e\en d)i\- 
iinw. (roti \/VAU\ we nia\ uiii. >nnr affect innate ■.••n 

.1 A \ll> 

It I am kiiied tjo ;^,i iii\ l».Mi\ and bur> it (h<enll\. 

(.oodd.xe. .IA.MI> 



Ma\ l.'.lli. 1M»;|. 
>h l)Kvi; F.vTiir.i; : — Still alive, but the e\ceN>i ve fat i;rm- a nd 
lijfhtinj^ iiavt- been tefrilic. We have been under tire e\er -ime 
ihe .Mh. 'I'he rtMriinent lost K'? yo^terdax ; onl\ lny left. 1 think 
we >hal! lijriii again to-da> . (iood-bye. ^ Our -on 

.1 A .M I.S. 



K\ KNiN'i. .Ma> I6lh. 
h\\ 1>K.\K Kathkk : — Still in exi>tencr. W*- ha<i a heavy «'n- 
giigement on tlie 12th : lost 83 men ami an t.tlicer. Out of 300 men 
we only have Ilm; left. We are badl\ u-ed nj.. but hoj.,- to stand it 
through. Love tn all. .luliaand Charlie. 

^ niii- atleetinnate -on .1 \ M ' ^. 



12 

Near SPorrgVLVANiA, C. H., Va.,) 
May 19tb, J864. 8 o'clock.^ 

My Dear Father; — Still unhurt and in good spirits We were 
under an awful artillery fire yesterday, but behind good works and 
well protected. The dirt showered over us though, plentifully, as 
the shot would plump into the breastwork. Both sides have been 
very quiet to-day so far. The picket lines this morning are only a 
few yards apart. We can distinctly see all their movements. My 
health is much better for our few days stationary actions, fearfully 
black, and eating some three pounds of meat per diem. The first 
mail we have received since the first of May came last even- 
ing; while others were jolly over long, loving letters from home, 
I liad to content myself with a pipe and memories ! Out of 345 men 
we left Alexandria with, the first of the month, we have 160 left, 
and six officers less than we started with. 

Well, good-bye, God grant the right may win, and that we 
may see each other again. Love to Julia and Charlie, and all 
^"ent's. Your affectionate son JAMES. 



Camp Near Saxton's Junction,) 
May 24th, 1864.^ 

My Dear Father : — We crossed the North Anna yesterday af- 
ternoon. It was waist deep and very swift, with a rough bottom, 
and the crossing was very difficult and slow, a squadron of cavalry 
dashing ahead of us. Our division was the first of the army across, 
and as soon as they reached the top of the high precipitous bank of 
the river, commenced a brisk fire. All out of breath, half the com- 
mand barefoot, we formed and advanced a mile in splendid line, 
and then held the ground while other troops crossed. About six 
last evening we sustained a heavy attack, but repulsed the enemy 
twice, with little loss to ourselves but iiMicting a terrible one on 
the enemy. Our artillery, splendidly posted on the other side of 
the river, rained a perfect storm of iron over our heads into the 
enemy, while we were fighting our best. So far to-day we have 
been quiet. Our pickets are a mile in front along the railroad run- 
ning from Gordonsville to Saxton's, and there uniting with the 
Fredericksburg and Richmond R. R. The Junction is about three 
miles to our left, where they are now fighting hard with the second 
and ninth corps. 

This morning early, I had the pleasure of reading to the regi- 
ment from the top of the breastwork, as a rostrum, a congratula- 
tory order from Gen. Meade for our gallnnt conduct yesterday 



13 

• 

I inu.-.t f«'ll you of a lilih- personal iiuick-iit happening: yester- 
i\-A\. Just after we had jrained our present position, one of the 2nd 
Infantry men reported to his commandino: officer tliat he had seen 
a }»attery wheel into position near a white house about three- 
fourths of a mile in front of us. 1 was on horseback near him at 
the time, and immediately rode to Gen. Ayres' headquarters and 
reporte'd tin- fact. If it wa^ tru<-. we all knew, their tire would en- 
filade our line terribly. While they were exaininingr the positon 
with their field-jrlasses. I told the (yen. I would ride over to tlie 
place with his permission and find out certaiidy. He hesitated a 
moment and ^aid yer-. 1 >.kirte<l around a couple of mile^. — must 
liui-ry uj), tirinjr commenced, — I wiMit within twenty yards «»f tin- 
house, saw no battery, but jfot a whole volley froni tln'ir cavalry, 
and wa« nearly captured. 

Please don't publish any of these hurrie<l lettt'r-. (;ood-l»>c. 
Hud Ciod bles< you all. Love to .hilia and Charlie. 

Vnur atbctiunate m.u .lAMKS. 



Inj»i ANAJ'oi.is, Indiana,^ 
Nov. :id, is»;').s 

Hon. D. D. Pratt— M> Dear Sir :— I received a letter from 
Fud^-^e J. W. Wrii/ht. who wa^ then on Ids way from Ri«-hmond, 
Va., with the reniMins of your dear son .Tames, informing' me that 
it W!«s the wish of the oftbers of the re^nnjent that I -liould attend 
ihe funeral, ami <1eliver an achlreo- upon the lite and character of 
hi>n wliom we all love<l >;o well. 

Should the fiinei-.il be (l.l'erre.l sonu' linn' until the jn*w»t press 
of our bu»:ines>^ in court i>^ over, it would, if accordant with the 
\vi>^ln's of the family, as with tlio^e of his brother otficers, a!rt)rd me 
I melancholy pleasure to emleavor to do ju-;ti««' to the merits of 
the dead as a man. a citi/.en. and a sohlier: and to find in his life 
;in(l death, the beant\ of hl^ s.-ieritice. :ind the Hweet, sad unes of hit" 
early and «fh»rion.-. death. I lo\ ed him well, and valued him ap 
All officer most hij.'hly. A- a thinker and comi)anion he was neces- 
sary to me in the fj«ld, where there is so little thoujrht nnd com- 
panionship of soul. I have felt but one loss duriiijr the war st) 
(niK'h. 

I do >incerely -\nipathi/e with \<»u all. and min«.de my tears 
with voiirs. I am. vours trulv. .1. W. GORDON. 



14 

* 

Camp llth Infantry, Richmondj Va.,^ 
Nov. 9th, 1865.^ 

Hon. D. D. Pratt— Dear Sir :— The following order has ^veii 
lis the mournful satisfaction of paying- the last act of love to one of 
our comrades, with whom in times past we have so often shared 
the pleasures, the hardships and dangers of a soldier's life. It is a 
satisfaction to all of us, that his body lies no longer in its alien 
resting place. The hostile lines that suiTounded his grave have 
disappeared, and it seems so proper that Virginia should receive 
with sadness her living, and with sadness give up her patriot 
dead. 

Knowing that it was James' Wish to sleep his. long sleep by thv 
side of his mother in our quiet village grave-yard, I have done 
with pleasure all you asked. I must not forget to mention here the 
assistance rendered me by Captain Ellsworth and Lieuts. Nealy 
and Kennington, who accompanied me to the grave. Other officers 
cheerfully offered to go, and it gave me much pleasure to see that 
James was remembered and loved by those who knew him best. 

We found the ground beneath the lonely locust tree undisturb- 
ed, save that the beating of winter storms had moulded the hasty 
mound, and the bloomings of summer had honored it with some 
slight garlands. The rough head board placed in such sadness and 
haste over the friend of my boyhood, still bore his name. 

As I stood by that grave once more in the evening twilight, I 
remembered well my thoughts on that May morning when the 
fresh upturned grave told me too sadly that I should never more 
hear the voice or see the smile of him I had loved so dearly. I re- 
membered too, I had thought with pain of his Father, and the 
anxious hearts that were waiting for us both in our western home, 
which it was decreed he never, never more should greet. 

Home, we took him — first to his soldiei^'s home — his regiment 
— to those men who had seen his heart brave and true by the glare 
of a thousand cannon, and had known his fine genial nature by the 
light of a hundred camp fires. All day long, as we traveled back 
through woods and hills and valleys, the thought came of the long- 
hours in winter quarters where his bright humor never failed us — of 
dreary marches through Virginia — of nights we have slept under 
the drenching rain — of days of hunger — days of battle when his 
courage never faltered. 

On reaching the regiment every honor was shown him that a 
soldier's love and pride could dictate. The flag which he had fol- 
lowed so often through the din and smoke of battle was placed on 
his coffin and I could not help but think that of the many patriot 



lie.id that'tiii«r had covinMl it lnul covered none bmver. none better. 

The next afternoon t!ie funeral corteg:e wa;; formed in ohedi- 
on«e to the :i<»(>nipMn\ in^' order. The coffin, wrapped ji» th«' old 
l\ag, was phieed on a caihson drawn hy six white horses, preceded 
b\ the exort and band. Our rej^inient and the officers and 
iiian\ nf th«' men of the I'Jih Infantry formed the procession. ^\"\\\^ 
mutfiid (h'um the march into Uichmond wa^J ma(U' with all that 
w a-, left of poor I Matt. 

Often tlie anti(ii)atiun of this marcli had fired his soul, ])nt how 
little did any of us then think ho\\ >:id thi> march would br. M:i- 
ny (hiy8 with «floom\ h<»pf and N\cary fe<'t, it had Ikmmi liis «-n>:it 
aim. The best streu^i^th of his life wasj^iven in its accompli>l!nieiit. 
yet, he mii-i die with the rami)ai«rii unfinished — the <ause unwon! 
'I'jje triumph and ^lory fall <t>ldly ajul uidieeded iMi his cotVin. — 
fafe> battles and vietories ar»* p i-t i\>v liiin. 

It was with sad pride we paid the funeral li«»nor> to thi> «ral- 
lant officer in the fallen ritadel of the rebellion. We left him at 
^unset on the way to oui* ohi <juiet houn'. \\ here >\ ith our brave 
> »)un«^ frieud (( 'apt. rahuer I >uMn,) they will sle«'p undisturbed near 
those they love so well, in pairiot -oldiers. «rraves. Their li\es 
were short, btit by their deaih they w ill li\e forever. A jrrateful 
• •ouiitr\ thiiik-« more oftln-in in their honored ^ra\es, thati it <b>e< 
ofa thousaml palsi«'d, livinjr hearts w h«» eoiild not in the <lark days 
of the past, raise their arm to htrike for their eountry's iroo(l. To 
one s(» noble, youn<^ and ^rifted life was j)nM-ious. but he preferred 
an honored -.oldior'^ ^-nivi* next to a soldir^-'s lifV iu days of storm 
«nd battle. ^'our^ trul>. 1. It. \VIM(.irr. 

Hrevet Capt. T. <. A.. Kt Lieut. 11th Inf 



Ih. vi.-(^)i \UTkK> lU.'.iMKM IN rnk Fiki.o, llth T. S. Im .,/ 
("amji near KirliMinnd \',i.. \(»\-. stj). lHr>.').( 

(lenenil Orders No. 7. 

The order of j)rocce<sion for eseorlin^Mhe remains of the late 
1st Lieut, .lames p. pmtt to the railroad station. 

Fuiu'ral e^-ort in column of march nmler command of Hrevet 
< 'apt. Irvln H. Wri;rht, as^ist^-d by 1st Lieut. A. A. Ilarback, con- 
sisting,' of four seiyeants four (•ori)orals ami forty-two privates. 

The follow-in;: o(fie«'rs of other re^n„H.„ts, havinjr kindly con- 
sented to aet as pall-bearers, .m the occasion, in connection with 
several officers of this reL'iment. they will arran^'-e themselves ac- 
corditi^' to the folh.winir onler. 



u 

PALL BEAKERS. 

1st Lieut. E. A. Ellsworth, Bt. Capt. U. S. A. 
1st Lieut. E. S. Huntin^on, 11th U. S. Inf. 
Bt. Capt. David Hazzard, 1st Lieut. 11th U. S. Inf. 
1st Lieut. Hunt, 12t]i U. S. Inf. 
Bt. Capt. Johh H. Patterson, 11th U. S. Inf. 
1st Lieut. Netterville, 12th U. S. Inf. 
1st Lieut. Allston, 12th U. S. Inf., Bt. Capt. U. S. A. 
1st Lieut. Tompkins, l2th U. S. Inf. 
Enlisted men of the regiment with side arms. 
Officers of the 11th U. S. Infantry with side arms- 
Invited officers of other regiments. 

The deceased having been peculiarly identified witii the 1st 
Battalion, 11th U. S. Infantry, in many of its severest battles, it is 
directed that the command of the whole devolve upon Capt. John 
M. Goodhue, commanding said battalion. 

By command of Bt. Maj. and Capt. A. E. LATIMEK. 
[Signed] Henry Wagner 

1st Lieut. 11th U. S, Inf.. Act'g Adj. Reg't in the field. 



17 
Take Him Home. 



Inscribed to Hon. D. D. Pratt, upou the burial ol his >on. Lieut. Jame> P Pratt, 
nth r .s. Infantry. 



Oh take him home I too long has he been lying:. 

That brave young martyr, in the traitor earth ; 
'Twoiild liave removed one half the pain of dying" 

To fall amid the hills that gave him birth. 

And yet his noble spirit never faltered 

Along the ]>loody pathway he has trod : 
Strong, brave and true, his course he never altered. 

Until at hist it led him up to God. 

There i.s no sacrifiec so near perfection 

As young life offered on its country'.-^ shrine: 

No nobler impulse ever gave direction 
To lead a soul ujjward to the divine. 

For every selfish thought, each low, bjise feeling. 

Must flee before this ottering of life : 
And noblest manhood, in its true revealing. 

Alone can brave the sacrificial knife. 

And, oh I the gathered host of such high .Npiritr* 
Thai smiles above our brighened stars to-day. 

No favored land of all the earth inherits 
Nor shining i)lanet in the heavenly way. 

() brave, true souls! in young life's rosy m(»rning. 

To otter up your trolden summer yejg-s. 
Upon \our country s .^.hrine — In r p:ige ad(»niing 

With hero names, set round w itli dianiond tears. 

How those dear names like hrilliunt >tar> u ill cluster 
Around our liearths and heart.-> through coming tim»- : 

How in our evening skies those forms will mustt'r. 
Transfigured, njaking every life suhlinn-. 

Take him uj) gently — all liis dust is holy : 

Softly encase him in his <<>ttin betl : 
Then bear him liomeward. temleily and >I(»u ly. 

And lay him d«»wn he^ide his kindred dead. 

Tliere let liim re.-t beside his .-ainted mother. 

Softl\ and >weetly as in days of yore. 
While in the coming years ouv and anothei- 

Shall follow after to the silent shore. 

And in the diadem our (iod shall gather 
To grace his brow through all eternity. 
Mo>t loved and <herislK'd by the Son and Father. 
Such martvr lives as his will surely be. 

MAKY E. NEALY 
Washington, I). ( ;.. Dec. 14th. 1865, 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




013 703 065 2 § 



